black is the color
by stick-at-nought shady
Summary: All Annie can see is black, branded into her eyelids, making her stray from her path. For the C/P January Monthly Oneshot Challenge.


**Written for the Caesar's Palace Monthly Oneshot Challenge, January '14.**

**Yes, this is very short, and, I must admit, not my best writing, but I wanted to get this published. Not beta-ed, so there may be grammar mistakes.**

**Obviously AU-ish, as Annie is not blind. **

**The first underlined phrase below is not the prompt for the challenge, but as it's inspired the title for this oneshot, I thought I'd put it here. :)**

**Prompt: "Count back, anesthetize / colors burnt into my eyes / life for you is shades of grey / help me, help me find my way..." -from All Those Friendly People by Funeral Suits**

* * *

black, black, black is the color of my true love's hair

xXx

count back, anesthetize, colors burnt into my eyes, life for you is shades of grey, help me, help me find my way

* * *

That night, like every night, I closed my weary eyes, and attempted to fall to sleep. My eyelashes stuck together, tangling, as if trying to force me to keep my eyes shut. I saw nothing but blackness. I shivered, though I was lying under a pile of blankets that I found warm and comforting. Quilts embraced me, and sheets touched my neck. I shivered still. It was not because of the frightening darkness that should come with the closing of a pair of eyes. No, I was used to the darkness. I saw it constantly.

It was what came with the night that I feared- the nightmares.

I held very still, as if the slightest movement would shatter me like an ice sculpture hit with a pickax. After a minute of this un-moving stillness, I could feel it- the ocean rocking me from side to side, as if I was on a fishing boat. I spread my arms out, so I laid sprawled on my back on my bed. A smile moved to my lips, as it always did when I imagined the ocean. Though I did not move a muscle, I felt as if I was being gently rocked, like a cradle floating on waves.

But the marvelous feeling of the ocean soon faded, and I lay still as a stone. I felt my brain fogging up, and knew that I would soon succumb to sleep.

I began counting, as I did every night. I always start with one hundred and count backwards until I fall asleep.

"One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight..." I whispered.

In the thirties, I began to feel myself nodding off. I was scared, though, that I would hear the voices of the Capitol's torturers, and scared that I would dream of them. I forced myself to stay awake.

"...zero," I said, finishing my count. But I wouldn't sleep if I could help it. "Negative one, negative two, negative three, negative four..."

At negative two hundred fifteen, I gave up. I swung my legs out of bed. My feet hit the smooth floor with a surprisingly loud slap. I waited for the sound of footsteps making their way toward me. I was used to the nurses and doctors telling me that I wasn't permitted to wander about during the night. But they did not tonight, and so I walked out of the hospital, my hands trailing against the walls so as to give me a sense of direction.

It was not long, however, before I was lost among the echoing halls. I could hear footsteps coming after me, and I held perfectly still again, nervous.

An unfamiliar, low voice greeted me: "Annie?"

I flinched, and sturdy hands gripped my wrists. "It's all right, Annie. You just got a bit lost. Come with me."

The owner of the voice held my hand as we walked down the hall that he could see and I could not. "Remember," he said, "do not walk around the District at night. It's not dangerous for someone with their sight, but for you..."

Yes, me... poor, blind Annie, the product of a Capitol torture gone too far...

"...for you, it's different. All you see is black, branded into your eyelids. I can't imagine what it's like," the voice continued, "but I'm sure it's not at all pleasant."

"I do tend to get lost a lot," I said agreeably.

"That's why you have us to help you on your way," they said, and I found myself being laid into my familiar bed. "Good night, Annie. Don't wander."

And so I did not wander. I counted backwards quietly when they left. I only got to eighty-one when I felt sleep taking me. Though, as I slept, the black was branded into my eyelids, I felt as if I could find my way a bit better.


End file.
